


November '15. Mt Ebott.

by TigerOfTheTundra



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventures, Anxiety, Dimensional Travel, Self-Reflection, Somewhat, frienship, in chapter 1 mostly, puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerOfTheTundra/pseuds/TigerOfTheTundra
Summary: Late November, a dimensional traveler finds herself in a distant town. The tales of a mountain, a vanishing place of lost souls, draws her close, down, down into its depths....





	1. Travels

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty personal fic, and so deals with a lot of personal stuff. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it! Because it's pretty personal, I do ask that you read it kindly : ) I'm a little nervous about sharing it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO. Uh. Well....  
> QUICK EXPLANATION BEFORE WE BEGIN. I’ll go into more detail below but for now, the basics:
> 
> This is the start of a self-insert series of adventures I’ve been working on writing since freshman year of college, and been creating with myself since I was pretty small. This is both a catalogue of myself as I remember at various life stages, and a way to process where I am at a given time. It’s art therapy, it’s fun, and it’s developed into its own world, just one that intersects with whatever fandom I’m connected with at the time ^^;
> 
> It does come with a few rules. As a dimensional traveler, my self in this story can follow… dimensional cracks. She also knows things that happen, in a sort of psycic-esque way. She can’t send thoughts, but she can tell how people feel, or pieces of their lives, depending on what’s relevant to what’s going on, and how the world she’s in works. She can’t just teleport around or know everything that’s happening, because that would make for boring adventures.
> 
> Because this is basically my fictionalized life story, it’s pretty personal. This first chapter is a mix of catching people up on all the parts of my story I haven’t shared with you, and just… life stuff. Anything other than mentions of my persona interacting with fictional characters most likely actually did happen, though I can’t guarantee it happened exactly word-for-word as it shows.

I slumped onto the couch and sank in, dragging the warm blanket around me and closing my eyes. It was a heavy day, a bone-weary sore day. I wouldn’t be getting up at all, until my mom got home and asked why I hadn’t cleaned up my lunch dishes. Again. If I did them now she wouldn’t get frustrated when she got home, but that would require getting up, going over, scrubbing and washing and putting things away, only to finish just when she got home. And then my only refuge would be darting to the couch and pretending to sleep, or she’d find something else I hadn’t done. There was certainly enough I hadn’t gotten finished today. Dishes were just the easiest to get done when she asked about them, and she usually only noticed one or two of my failings an afternoon.  
  
No, what I needed was a burst of emotional energy. A sudden rush to fly about finishing everything, bursting with chipper enthusiasm, and a dancing story idea playing in the background of my thoughts. But I leaned back and sank deeper under the warm electric blanket; I didn’t want to do a thing. I wanted to fade into comfortable warmth and pretend everything was peaceful and quiet, just for a little…  
  
A car door, and the chatter of voices. Mom and Pop were home at the same time. I groaned and thought about pretending to sleep, when they unlocked the door. No, better face the music. Or try and avoid it altogether. I got up, slowly, with an ache in my arms and ribs.  
  
“Melanie, did you get dinner started yet?” Right out of the gate. And no, I hadn’t.  
  
“Just getting to it!” I chirped, adding a cheery smile down the stairs as my parents got out of their shoes and wet coats. “Is it raining outside?”  
  
“Didn’t you open the window shades today?” Pop asked. “It’s been raining since this morning.” Okay, no cheery casual conversation. I disappeared into the kitchen to dump my lunch dishes into the sink and pull out some leftovers for dinner; I’d actually made a kind of healthy lunch for myself today. Even made lunch before 2 in the afternoon, which on exhausting, home-all-day days like this, was something to be proud of.  
  
“Are those your breakfast dishes?” Mom asked as she followed me in, grocery bags in hand. Pop grabbed the pan I’d cooked with and began washing it with a frustrated huff, and Mom shooed him away. “She can do her own dishes,” she scolded.  
  
“Just going to, actually,” I chirped. A little stiffer than I’d intended, and they took no notice as they filled me in on their day’s work. The underlying what-did-you-do-today stayed underlying for the time, as I dodged their hurried putting away of the groceries. For as open as our kitchen was, it felt outright crowded when they all were in it at once. And the anxiety of I-can’t-reach-anything-I-need-to, as always, ramped up the more hurriedly they all moved. Finally I stepped back, blankly nodding along to Mom’s explanation of our church’s newest budgeting deadline as I let myself slip into an emotional limbo pocket. Anxiety. Fun stuff.  
  
“—and Melanie. Melanie.” Mom frowned, and I turned to look at her.  
  
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to arrange my face into an open smile.  
  
“I was asking if you’d started anything for dinner,” she repeated.  
  
“Not yet, I was just getting up to get to it.” Chill and cheerful. Don’t be sassy when they’re mad, just relaxed and cheery.  
  
“Melanie, we needed dinner ready when we got home,” she snapped. “Tonight’s— Don’t worry about it, just, go—” With another huff, she started pulling out the food she’d just put away. “You’re picking Rebecca up today, right?”  
  
“Yeah, play practice…” I glanced at the clock; play practice had just started. It was scheduled to go long today, but… “Yeah, it’s gonna get out soon today. I can get her.” I can get out. Already the knot in my stomach was breaching my defenses. My smile felt strained. I felt uncomfortably shaky. “I’ll go get her.” Pop was already chopping vegetables they’d just bought, veggies I wouldn’t have been able to chop, since they just arrived. He shot me a stern, disappointed sort of look, and I turned away with as much feigned shame as I could. No shame, no pain. But I couldn’t let them think I didn’t care. They needed to think I cared.  
  
I grabbed my backpack and car keys. “See you later!” My backpack felt unusually light, but it had enough of a full feel to it that I knew I had a notebook. I could pretend to do something productive, at the library, maybe. No one returned my goodbye, so I stepped out into the rain. 

  


\-----

  


Already my stomach pressed up against my lungs. Step one, get away. My hands fumbled at the keys, but I managed to unlock the door and get in my car. Get away, step one. One step at a time. I pulled out and turned toward the school, like I was headed to the school. Step one, casual as possible, slip away, get away. Find a corner only once you’re away, the whole drive, all the way into town. Step one before anything else. Only once I’d gotten to Bothell, parked in the library lot, and folded my head into my arms did I let it loose.  
Not a full anxiety attack, just tears. No specific feelings to it, just sobs and twisted faces and cries. Loud, obnoxious ones, ones that doubled me in half, as my body shook and I cried and didn’t even wonder why I cried. That’s what days like this were. Just… this.  
  
Once my abdominal muscles were too tired to keep it up, I stopped, calmed down, wiped my eyes. No red nose or bloodshot eyes to give it away, not with me. I could sob for a whole class period and leave the bathroom looking chipper as ever, back in high school. Not much had changed. I stretched and rolled my shoulders as well, only to slump back in my seat. Now what? I was at the library, but I had some dreadfully overdue books and I’d feel worse going in without them. Rebecca was at practice until 7 today. If I went to pester her friends, I’d feel awkward and out of place, whether or not I was. Rain pattered on my windshield, and I contemplated sleeping to avoid my problems. But that’d give me a headache, I knew, so I sighed, pulled on my backpack, and got out of the car.

A walk. The rain hit cold on my face and bare hands; a walk in this would at least clear up my fog-head feelings. Now I wished I’d gone on one right before the parents got home, I thought with a smirk. Quiet grey-green trees, dulled by the cloudy light; houses and apartments and sidewalk for at least most of the roads—the town was a nice place to be. Idly, I entertained an old daydream about having an apartment down here, but I knew better. I could barely keep myself fed regularly, much less remember to pay bills on any semblance of a schedule.  
  
Which reminded me, I owed rent at home. The money was in my desk drawer, marked by yellow tape and the designated month on the envelope. Oh well. Another thing on the list of stuff I should have done.  
  
My feet carried me down the hill from the library toward the highway, across the highway to the park. I hadn’t gone here much as a kid, but I’d always wanted to then, going back and forth from middle school, driving by around trips to the library. Now, as technically an adult, I could go whenever I darn well pleased. I could also go buy ice cream, except for now when I was broke. The park bordered a slow river, and I ended up walking along it to the bridge. The old wood bridge. The old northwest woods. The geese and ducks lazily waiting for people to toss bread, which no one did now that we knew bread wasn’t healthy for water fowl. Poor little guys. I thought about getting them some bread myself, but again. Broke.  
  
“Heh, sorry,” I murmured to a passing mallard and her friend. The duck glanced up and gave a bit of a quack, and I had to rub a tear from my eye. A duck saying hi. To me. Saying hi to me, in her own duck language. That or warning me not to eat her, but still I smiled sappily and watched her swim along the murky winding current. “Thanks,” I added. Already the ache in my stomach had cleared up, leaving me feeling better than I had all morning. Now why didn’t I get up and out of the house more often, if I felt this good out here?  
  
“I’m a lazy butt, that’s why,” I chuckled as I continued my slow trudge to the cement path around the park. I just wanted to cuddle under blankets on my couch and watch cartoons all day, not get up and out and contemplative. When I was home by myself, I savored the peaceful time. Same reason I didn’t go to bed late at night; savoring the quiet house. My hand went to my necklace as I walked. It felt colder than it should. Weird.  
  
Somehow my lethargic pace took me a good ways off, and I turned around to head back along the river, back up to the library. I considered going downtown, maybe getting sushi while I waited. I considered checking my phone, see if Kate was available. Nah, she had school. She had things to do, things to accomplish, on top of her own mental health stuff. Unless I was around to help, I shouldn’t bother her, which was a stupid line of thought as far as friends were considered, you were supposed to rely on each other, right? I felt like too much of a weight to lean on anyone at the moment. The weight of the afternoon, my parent’s tones and frowns, sharp words and sighs they weren’t good at keeping concealed, heaped down on me as I picked my way through the construction. Always with the construction, that was my little town. Someday it’d be all done up fancy. And expensive. Too much for an odd-job layabout like me.  
  
A guy glanced over my way as I approached the library. I frowned, then glared. Try something, I thought. I’m mostly pent up frustration and anger, go ahead, try something. He barely seem to notice me, as he walked past, and I rubbed a hand over my face. The rain began to fall a little harder. Nice. Real Christian attitude, there, I told myself. Honestly, I’d been more like this lately, more snappish towards others, harsher towards myself. My family. I also let myself get away with more, more lazy grumpiness than I really should, but I was tired, so tired. It was really just habit that kept anyone from noticing my attitude changes. My own shameful habit, smiles and sweetness for the populace, friendly laughter and casual conversation for family and church. A rivulet of water trickled cold down my neck. I looked up at the sky and let the rain wash my face clear.  
  
I needed to get away. An out, a break, just… away. Preferably somewhere I could doze on a comfortable couch, or watch movies with friends, but no one I knew lived nearby. Visiting the Avengers, or anyone around there had been… uncomfortable, lately. And they had a lot going on, too. I didn’t really have anyone besides them, anymore. My fingers curled around my white-gold necklace charm, a curved cross with a small crystal in the center. Not anymore, but…  
  
When I was twelve, Toa Kopaka gave me the small crystal, infused with his power, to keep with me whenever I visited. Anytime I was in the same dimension as him, even miles away, he could track the necklace down and find me. But his world had sealed itself away, and the only portal I had… destroyed, to ensure that no one would ever get trapped on the wrong side. Remembering still ached low in my stomach, still hurt to think about, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I had no one to turn to, at this point, no one I could really really trust. And tired as I was, a tiny corner of my heart still yearned with a maybe, maybe if I try…  
  
I marched back to the car. Backpack, notebook, check. Coat and hat. Some food I kept in the trunk, and a second pack, this one having stayed tucked in my trunk for years now. It was my Matoran armor set, a gift from some friends (and likely a few smiths wondering if they could make one to fit me). The stone that powered had worn out on my last trip… just after high school, ages ago… but it would help, as long as no one took a close look at me. I secured the bag around my shoulder and slammed the car trunk shut. I’d just take off and look about for a bit; I always made it back with plenty of time, on dimension hopping trips. I had spent years running a kingdom in Ireland with my high school friends before, I had travelled the length of the Matoran Universe for months at a time, and I’d never been missed. The thought of adventure almost made me feel eager, or anticipatory even. Almost like I had the energy to do more than walk with my eyes half-closed and fingers splayed, searching for the tug of something not quite home.  
  
I stepped out. The tug took me faster than usual, took me along familiar feeling paths, brightly moving alleys. That’s what dimension hopping felt like to me, this tugging, dragging pathway I could step on and off of at certain points. I’d used it once before to move about within a dimension, from a hostel to a secured spy agency’s headquarters, but it wasn’t something I could usually do. My sister, Rebecca, she could practically teleport with how well she shifted in and out of these rifts, but I had other skills from the interim space.  
Interim space. That’s where you travelled, eyes mostly closed, just colors on your eyelids and instinct. Of course, you could open your eyes if you wanted to, but the visual representation of reshifting your atomic frequency to match that of a different dimension tended to get confusing. And since so much of dimensional travel like I did was mental-powered, confusion ended in unexpected ways. Usually non-lethal. But I stepped off the path the first stop I could and let myself breathe for a bit, calming the shiver in my limbs and knot in my stomach. Anxiety about travelling into unknown lands? I could handle. I’d handled it all my life.  
  
And zip, again. I walked far on this trip, as far as I could reach each time I found a path. I started just picking anything at random, walking through once I’d stepped back in small towns, half-set up circuses, muddy pine forests. I found a neighborhood with an empty lot that made me smile with the warm comfort of hot breakfast food, and a candy-colored town that felt… deceptively enthusiastic. Pink flowers cascaded from a forest of tree limbs, but somehow reaching to touch them made me sad, even though all was a little more right in the world. None of where I travelled felt familiar, though, and I continued on, and on, until I found myself back at a library.  
  
“Oh, sorry!” Someone had nearly bumped into me, but their words were what made me jump in surprise. “Didn’t see you there, dear.”  
  
“Sorry.” I hadn’t talked to anyone since I left my house. And her suddenly very there-ness broke my mental hold on the interim space, leaving me temporarily stranded. “I mean, it’s fine, no problem.” She smiled, a warm smile and puzzled eyes, and I glanced about. Modern cars. Recognizably American-esque clothing and speech patterns, unless my own abilities influenced how I heard them here. “Uh, have a nice day.” I waved a bit, and she waved back, gaze flitting from me to my over-packed bags. Ah. I probably looked a little suspicious, but the innocent sort of suspicious. My expression felt sappy and sort of lukewarm, a big, weak smile at the person’s innocent confusion at a young woman with lots of bags. Just a student or a hitchhiker. The woman there had left to her own car, and I realized it was overcast here, too, only not snowing. Well. It seemed a nice enough place of its own right, but nothing tugged around me, no pull of dimensional anything… and no story pull, either.  
  
That was my main gift, as a dimension hopper. Anywhere I went, I could slip into the feel, the rhythm of whatever world I’d come to. Sometimes it manifested as a sort of psychic ability, knowing when things were about to happen, or knowing things happening far away from me. Sometimes I could communicate with supernatural beings, or tell how others felt at any given moment. It came out a little different each time, like in this world where… I had nothing. Nothing from the people around me, nothing in the history or texture of the grey-cast town. I walked around the edge of the library and stopped, my hand still up to try and focus my attention. Nothing but a poignant emptiness. And a mountain.  
  
Behind the library, the sidewalk opened into a wide downtown sort of area, with a grocery store and a few little shops. A break between the shops lead down a dirt maintenance road and into the wooded area, all at the foot of a big, wide mountain. As I approached, I could feel… no, I could hear the people around me, thinking. ‘Simply dreadful, so many children,’ one woman thought as she folded up a newspaper at a café. Children? I took a step back, almost into a man stalking down the street. ‘If I catch that child going toward Mt. Ebott one more time I swear—” He was on the phone, listening, frowning. Mt. Ebott, so that was its name. ‘Just don’t look, don’t think about it, it’s not like you disappear around it just—’ this nervous pedestrian threw me a startled look, and hurried past the maintenance road’s gate. Around the edges of the chain link gate, footpaths had worn deep into the dirt, with no restriction signs around them. Not even on the gate itself, nowhere said “keep out” or “no trespassing”.  
  
Probably didn’t need to, I thought as I carefully crossed the road. Everyone was pretty scared of this mountain. Even the footpath sat muddled in viny weeds and sprigs of grass. I stepped along as casually as I could across the street, and no one paid me any heed, too caught up in whatever they were doing. No one stopped me from climbing the treacherous mountain.  


\------

  


It was a long trek. Mount Ebott, I heard it called, pulling in the tale as I walked. No one who ventured up ever came back. Children, lost souls, falling down, down… The whole thing felt ominous, and I stopped a lot. I took a lot of breaks, too, leaning against a rocky protrusion or sitting under a tree watching the sun make its way across the sky. Without anyone to stop me—or more specifically, urge me forward—I could sit and chill whenever I wanted. Nothing to prevent me from relaxing but the yawning chasm of guilt in my stomach and the heavy foreshadowing of something up the side of the mountain.  
  
By evening I’d finally reached the source of the tugging thread of story, a pull stronger than even all the fears and vague uncertainties of the townfolk. There was something up here, something thrilling, something marvelous. My fingers curled even tighter around my necklace; such a place had to have cracks and crevices I could slip through to keep moving through the dimensions. Such a place had to have adventure, distraction, even new beings to meet and places to explore. Either way, I’d reached my apparent destination: a rocky cavern with a big crack in the floor. And, of course, the thread of promised answers lead right down through that. I knelt to peek into the old hole, where I could almost feel a shivering pulse of adventure, wild excitement, come away, come away. The instinctive draw of it curled around my head. I gave it a shake and slid my backpack off, so I wouldn’t suddenly overbalance and fall in. It was a little strong, this pull into a very deep pit of a mountain. Again, how many children had been lost here? I wasn’t a child, but kids would feel this too. Was it a trap of some sort?  
  
I had to keep moving if I wanted to keep going, I told myself. Here, travelling through the worlds, I always felt better than I did at home. I could keep going, I could do that much, even though my heartbeat felt a little too hard again. The stone under my fingers crumbled when I gripped it for focus; this time I couldn’t even center my vision on anything. It was a bad one. Steady breaths, I told myself, as the anxiety flared and peaked. Steady breaths, in and out. There. My vision stopped blurring, and I turned around to lower myself down, before anxiety swelled again.  
  
I wasn’t the best rock climber, but it looked doable. As long as I didn’t look down too much during the climb. My feet fit well enough of a lower ledge, which left my stomach pressed well to the lip of the ridge. I grabbed my backpack, to carry down as well. But the weight shift made the rock crack and the lip of stone at my stomach begin to crumble. I grabbed for the ledge but stone cracked beneath me. I was falling backwards and started to scream; I couldn’t reach it! The ledge fell away completely and I was falling, screaming, _no no someone help—_ but no one came, and I blacked out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really wanted to do something for Undertale's anniversary. Not in like a "oh I ought to all the other fans are doing it", but more in that, I wanted to commemorate the day myself, mark how much this game has meant to me. And I'd written a lot of this story already, so.... well... I’ve been thinking about sharing these stories for a long time, as it is. I have a number, though this one is more recent. I write them based around who I am at a certain time—in high school, in college, or here in the midst of a pretty bad emotional breakdown… which was about right when I discovered Undertale.
> 
> The game… didn’t quite pull me out of my breakdown, but no one thing ever does that. It gave me something to seek out, though, watching lets plays, then comic dubs, then unfolding comics and fics on tumblr. Later on, it gave me a focused sandbox to write and create in, with cosplay and fandom interactions and aus. This was something I started writing around then, that November, when I could barely get myself out from under a blanket long enough to eat. It set me onto a return to writing and accomplishing things and getting out there, which eventually got me to socializing and working more and planning longer term, which wound up with me moving to Oregon, finally moving out on my own. So, here’s where I was last year, at the start of all this mess. Here’s where I was when I fell into the Underground….


	2. Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS_

Ow. I blinked and shifted; my arm hurt. When my sight finally cleared, I could see a vague blur of yellow around my face. A blur that smelled like… plants? Flowers. Bright sunny flowers in a… cave? 

A cave where I thought I’d fallen hundreds of feet, but even as I stretched my limbs and tentatively flexed my joints, nothing hurt that bad. My arm felt sore from my armor bag twisting it. My head ached in a normal post-anxiety sort of way. Even as I sat up, I couldn’t have dropped all this way and felt like… I looked up as I stretched all the way. Cavernous hole stretched up and up and up above my head, too far to climb. The walls, the walls were dark, smooth, smoothed down so no one could get out, built to keep everyone in, everyone trapped. Humans. Humans trapped them here, trapped me here, with their barrier. I could feel the walls thrum with the anger of it, of the humans trapping all the monsters in here.

Monsters. I jolted my thoughts away from the room’s feeling. My heart began to pound so hard it hurt. Monsters, here, an underground labyrinth full of monsters waiting, waiting. I dug my fingers into the dirt below me; I could feel the imagined eyes around me, they’d see me, see the fallen human. They could see that I was human. I tugged my bag around and, fingers fumbling, dragged out piece after piece of bluish-grey armor; I looked too human. Sweater off, chest plate on, connect the jointed stomach pieces. Gauntlets, arm guards, gloves, I couldn’t do up the strap on the gloves with my fumbling hands. Shin guards, tug my skirt into place, tighten the straps, get the gloves on, hide my necklace under my shirt. And the mask, last of all. My breathing had evened out with the familiar weight of all the pieces. I felt safe inside of it, safer than I’d felt in a long time. My mask was a Kanohi Mahiki—  
mask of illusion—a silvery-blue, oblong mask with attached headpieces to keep it from falling off. Usually, as I settled my mask over my head, the armor’s power system would activate, shrink my limbs, add armored accents and exposed organic tissue. I’d feel smaller, sturdier, stronger. But the crystal in my chest, the power source to activate the mask, it had run out almost a year ago. It run out to keep me disguised as I rescued Matoran, Toa, and other beings from a collapsing world… I’d saved them, and that thought made me feel as strong as the mask usually would.

But I missed the soft glow of energy, humming in my chest. For now, though, I tucked my hair into a sloppy bun and pulled my turtleneck up to hide my skin. I could breathe steadily, comfortably. My chest relaxed. There were monsters about, somewhere beyond these couple rooms, I could feel their presence as I closed my eyes and reached out my hand. At the very least, now I didn’t look human. I grabbed some dirt and rubbed it along my exposed clothing, my armor and the woven straps and joints. There, now I probably didn’t smell so much like a human anymore, in case any of these monsters had a better sense of smell. I couldn’t tell anything about them, from what I sensed. Just the knowledge of humans, trapping them away here and… fear. Hope. Yearning. Desperation. Not a good combination, and I was starting to feel shaky listening in to it. I pulled back. The feeling of watching eyes stayed on my back, heavier than my chest plate, as I packed up everything in the armor bag and slung it over my shoulder. It was probably just my anxiety, since I’d plugged up my head against the pulling threads of everyone down here. Or someone actually watching me…

I stepped out of the flower bed, which sat in the center of the room. Just the place to break a human’s fall, I realized. Curious, I reached out to touch one of the yellow flowers, one I hadn’t damaged too badly with my crash. They’d saved me, and I smiled down at them, still wondering if it was intentional. 

“Who planted you, little vines?” I whispered, my hand on a leaf. They didn’t have an answer of course, even when I prodded a bit mentally. This was a sad place, this human-sized rectangle of flowers, sad and… something sinister, underneath.

“Of course,” I murmured as I pulled back again. Well there was something up with this place, and I wanted none of it. Underground areas made me uncomfortable, even as I felt my heart ride the upswing of purpose. Going, doing, moving forward finally just… it felt good, and I offered the flowers another smile. “Bye,” I said. I followed the only way out of the room, a dark hallway ending in an ornate, pillared doorway. Okay… 

The next room, of course, felt even more suspense-filled. Another little hill sat in the central light of the room, leaving everything else in darkness. This one had only one flower, a flower that looked like… oh goodness, this flower had a face. And it was staring right at me, frowning like it had just tasted an awful flavor. I tried to look away and waltz along, ignoring the flower-face, until it spoke.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” it told me, with an air of authority. Danger. This flower was danger, but I couldn’t tell anything more about it. Just a yellow-petaled, cheery little flower, and all I could sense was danger. “There’s no way into that room other than this one, and I didn’t see you go in.” It squinted at me, still frowning. I shrugged, as casually as I could manage. But the mystery of my presence seemed to have all of the flower’s attention. “Who are you, anyway…? I don’t recognize you…”

“Um, I’m Mel,” I said slowly. “I uh… I’m a little lost, that’s all…” Very true, honest statements, but the flower wouldn’t stop staring. I smiled under my mask, hoping it’d show in my eyes. Also hoping it was too dark for this flower monster to see any skin showing under my mask. “So what’s your name?”

“Flowey,” the flower replied, with a bright smile stained with cynicism. “Flowey the flower. You must be really lost to get all the way here.” Danger, danger, red alert, run away. But I stood, trapped in a smiling contest with an increasingly terrifying flower monster. Were all the monsters like this one? Golly, I hoped not.

“Yeah, I’m… really lost,” I laughed. No matter how I probed, I couldn’t tell if the flower believed me or not. We had too many pauses between our each reply, to sound at all trustworthy on either side. 

“Well then, I guess you need someone to help explain things down here to you,” Flowey said, smile widening. 

“No, I’m good, really,” I said. “I’ll just, you know, and then, uh, yeah…” Soft footsteps padded toward us, and Flowey started back from the door behind them. I darted to the column on either side of the opposite door, hoping whoever came through wouldn’t see me. Now I was glad I didn’t have a heartlight, no bright beacon advertising “here I am, one helpless villager right here”. Flowey in turn disappeared into the grass… they could do that?? I didn’t have time to think about it; another being walked into the room.

“Oh, you poor… oh?” A woman… monster, I supposed, stepped through. She looked about, puzzled, like she’d been expecting someone. Me? Her furred hand reached to rub her neck; all over she was covered in white fur, paw-like rounded hands, long floppy ears. A monster, but I didn’t feel scared at the sight of her, like with the flower. I reached a tentative mental ear toward her. She was looking for a human, a fallen human. Her heart ached with an old, old sadness. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She sounded so gentle, so concerned, it wasn’t safe here for a human… It wasn’t, I could feel it. I almost stepped out, hand going to my mask, she had nothing but care and concern to her—

“Golly, you are a human, aren’t you?” The bright chirpy whisper spun me around, scaring me into spinning around. The yellow flower grew up at my eye level, vines crept out from the cracks and crevices in the wall. “You’re more lost than you think. Why don’t you let me help you?” Flowey’s vine reached for me, and I cautiously sidestepped it. Don’t look back, lady. Don’t turn around. A glance over my shoulder let me see she had left to the other room. “Come on, can’t you trust me?” The flower sounded genuinely upset over this for a moment, and I hesitated, hand to the spot my heartlight had been. A wide, menacing grin split their face almost in half, teeth barred. “Or do you know more than you’re letting on?” they asked, laughing high and bright and manic. Then with a pop the flower disappeared, and I stumbled away, halfway between the spot of light and the walls around me, deep stone walls all around me, and a flower growing in all the cracks and crevices.  
I could hear the woman’s footsteps coming back; I turned to run just as she came into the room.

“Stop!” she called. Fire erupted a few feet ahead of me, and I nearly fell trying to avoid it. “Hold it there, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I, I, I just got lost, I—” My attention snapped to her. She’d lost the kindness, the warmth of before. Now she was a steady passion, a single protective goal: the human that fell. Where was the human that fell. More fire hovered in and around her hand, and I was shaking too hard to hide it. “I didn’t, I…” She thought I’d hurt the human, I’d tried to catch them, kill them.  
“Who are you, and how did you get down here?” she asked, stern. She was looking me over, examining me for, for blood? Blood from a human. Monsters didn’t bleed, it seemed.

“I-I’m just lost, I didn’t know where, I don’t know how I got here.” Would she even believe me if I said I was the human? Would she let me leave? No, no she wouldn’t, I could feel it in the depths of my knotted chest. She wouldn’t let me leave; it was the only way to keep a human safe here. “I-I, just, I…” The woman let out a heavy sigh, closed her eyes, and banished the fire.

“Who sent you,” she asked, eyes closed. What? “Who, sent you.” Someone, someone who wanted to kill the humans, save the monsters by—“The Ruins are locked; how did you get in?” And just like that the woman stormed toward me, fire in hand, eyes steely. “How did you get into the Ruins? How did you get past me?”

“I-I don’t know, please, I don’t remember, I, I…” I held my head, my mask, trying to shrink down as much as I could. My back hit the wall with a clank, and I squeaked with fright. What would she do? She didn’t know; I didn’t know. That fire, magic fire… I was so scared, silently heaving sobs, I just got lost, I couldn’t get, there wasn’t a path out! There wasn’t a path out here, there wasn’t anything but I didn’t fit, I wasn’t supposed to be here, my presence squeezed, it hurt like anxiety hurt and I couldn’t stop crying, chest heaving with shaky breaths, vision almost completely blurred.

Eventually the last of the fire disappeared from her hand, the monster woman sighed, and I blinked my sight clear. I had to convince her I wasn’t a threat, I wouldn’t hurt a human.

“Um… Just… I…” Desperate, I grabbed onto the world, pulling with all my mental might. “I was… curious. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have hurt anyone, I promise, just…” The woman’s eyes closed. “I wanted to come, see, um…” My own desperation thrummed with that of a hundred different hearts, a hundred different yearning wishes. “I wanted to see… to see where… I just…” I wanted to get away, just like them, just like every monster. “It’s just…” A wavy laugh burbled out, heavy with old tears. “We all just want to get out… be free, and…—”

“That is enough!” The woman shot out a clawed hand and grabbed me by the wrist. I stumbled in her grip as she marched, tugging me up stairs and through purple-lit passages and rooms. “How dare you say such, and to just…” Boiling, hurt anger stewed from her, and I was squeezing my eyes shut, holding my chest trying to calm in. Crud, she felt like my mom’s grief, but hot, strong, and right, knowing she was right, desperate to do what was right. “Nothing is worth the cost of, that you could…” Her indignation, her fury burned at my thoughts even as I tried to block them out. I tripped and stumbled over uneven bridges and leaf-piles as she stalked through the labyrinthine ruins. Threads of promise, of discovery and even possible ways out, my ways out, pulled at me as she dragged me on. If I lowered my defenses, maybe I could reach them but her anger, her grief… I couldn’t take it. My mental blockade wavered as we reached a house, a home, a safe space a quiet space but it wasn’t, I wasn’t welcome here it wasn’t safe for me. The woman dragged me to a room, a child’s bedroom, still mussed from a previous resident, heavy with memories of occupants past. She pulled out a box of shoes, thrusting them into my masked face.

“This is what your precious freedom is! The lives of children, just children, like our own—” Tears stained her fur all down the sides of her face. 

I stared in horror at the box of children’s shoes. My mind crumpled. I could see faces, tiny hopeful faces, terrified, clutching a stick, a knife, a dented metal pan. Hoping laughing stumbling sleeping, sleeping, and her own sick child, sick all of a sudden, and they only needed one human soul, one single soul. I didn’t realize I’d started running until I was down the stairs and out, away, away from it all. The children. The missing children of the mountain, they came and, and, they came and died lost underground, they came and monsters killed them and _I would be next_ and my legs kept running, running down hallways that wouldn’t end.

“Stop, get back—” The woman was chasing me, but I couldn’t stop my careening path. Even as her footsteps faded I kept running, I jumped over small bumps and hills, I smashed my hands flat into doors, I ran and ran until ice and snow and I skidded face first on the snowy forest floor. My mask clattered a few feet off, and the door behind me swung shut. Slammed shut. Ow… Ow. My face stung. I reached up a leaden arm to touch my finger to my cheek, and it came away red with blood. My human face exposed, and bleeding. Monsters don’t bleed. The snow, the icy shards of snow had scraped up my cheek, had exposed me. The snow hurt me.

A laugh escaped. Another dry laugh, then another, as I laid my face against the jagged, iced-over snow. Snow, my snow, had hurt me. Here in my element, and it bloodies me up, leaves me exposed and raw and bleeding, and I couldn’t stop laughing. I clutched my stomach as I laughed, shakes running from the lead of my chest down my sandbag muscles. Tears seared the raw skin on my face. Without my mask, anyone could see me bleed, see me human, vulnerable, but I couldn’t stop the hysteric, desperate laughter. 

\--------

Ooowww, ow, my stomach hurt, I thought with a stretching grin, my face still grinding against the snow. I’d freeze to death instead, maybe, if I didn’t get up. Or a monster would happen upon me, another lost child, another soul to gather. But even as the shaky fear gripped me, even as my laughter died down to a watery chuckle, I couldn’t get my limbs to up and move. I laughed again, weakly; I wasn’t trying very hard. I just… I was so tired, and that tired, morbid humor of it all overwhelmed me.

“wow.” Something crunched in the snow. “guess my reputation precedes me.” Boots? A monster? I laughed, weak. I couldn’t get myself to do anything. Well, maybe that wasn’t all just the run. “didn’t think I was that funny looking tho.” I closed my eyes, a weak chuckle still tugging about my mouth. I didn’t want to deal with this right now. The crunch of footsteps came to a stop by my face; they’d see and I couldn’t get myself to care. 

“huh,” the newcomer finally repeated. “a human.” Welp, there I went. He just stood there, over me, as I shivered and lay ignoring him. If I ignored him long enough maybe, maybe I could just pretend it away, pretend myself away, back home, back anywhere, back to the woman, back to that terrifying flower thing. At least I’d been able to stand up then. Kinda pathetic, really.

“You’re observant.” A sarcastic comeback. Great first impression. My voice was muffled by the snow, but he let out a chuckle.

“no, im sans.” I could hear him bend down with a bit of a creak, and I almost peeked at him. “don’t you know how to greet a new pal? c’mon, shake my hand.” A new pal? Really? I was shaking all over now, eyes closed shut. “hey, come on, i promise i won’t bite.” No, no, I was just scared, just freaking out and I couldn’t stop it. I hated anxiety. I knew I could trust him but I was still. Freaking. Out.

“Sorry,” I finally mumbled. Breathe in. Breathe out. Settle your brain just enough to sit up. And I did, rubbing my eyes, trying to avoid smearing the blood around. My fingers were still shaking.

“geez, must have been quite a landing,” Sans was saying. He caught my hand as I turned to look at—A loud fart sound echoed the moment I grabbed his bony hand for balance. He let out an amused snort. “heh, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick.” His hand felt bony, and he was grinning at me, I could feel, grinning and dark-eyed. “it’s—hey, you look…” Still sitting, I stared at the hand I gripped. The hand I couldn’t bring myself to stop gripping. The white bone hand, attached to an arm bone in a blue jacket… Slowly I looked up to see the grin, the black empty eye sockets, the bone white of a, of a…

That was about when I screamed, an entire lungful of terror that sent the skeleton stumbling back away from me. Skeleton. I scrambled backwards in the snow, still screaming, even as his grin took on an edge of panic and he held up his hands in defense.

“hey, uh, easy, i won’t hurt you. i’m not really interested in capturing anybody,” he leaned back as he spoke, glancing down the path away from the door. I didn’t see anyone down that way, but I could have just doomed myself, told every monster around right where I was and I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop. “i promise, im not snowing you about it,” he added with a laugh. I laughed too, into my hand, tight and borderline hysterical. Snowing me about it. Wow.

“Snow problem,” I squeaked into my hand, an edge of panic making it louder than I’d thought. The skeleton, Sans, got a chuckle out of that.

“snow idea why you’re screaming your head off,” he said, “but i promise im an ice guy.” I just snorted into my gloved hands, which were still shaking, but now with the after-effects of the scare. And the run. And the anxiety building in my head, in my stomach. And—

“Sorry.” I finally dropped my hands, though they stayed clutched near my chest. And I couldn’t help but keep watching him, like he’d jump me the moment I looked away. “I, uh… sorry about that…” My vision was already starting to blur with embarrassed tears. Great.

“eh,” he shrugged. “snow problem.” We both sort of laughed, and he held out his hand again. I sort of reached for it, hesitated, then grabbed his hand tight.

A loud fart noise echoed through the space. Again. The prankster still holding my hand snorted in dry, satisfied amusement, and I could feel the well of laughter-prompted more tears in my eyes. Oh my gosh. 

“Wooooow,” I said. My voice only wavered a bit, and I found myself keeping grip of his hand just to calm the pounding fright in my veins. “Same joke twice in a row?”

He grinned. “always funny, that one.” Then he freed his hand from mine and pocketed the little device. “you okay tho? took a bit of a screaming dive, from the looks of it.” I reached to touch my cheek, but the blood had mostly dried. The treacherous blood. Then I felt myself heat up with embarrassment, as I realized. A screaming dive. Ha.

“Yeah…” I said, covering my face with one hand. Then I stood and brushed myself off, only to wobble in place.

“woah, easy there, bud.” Sans held up his hands to steady me, but I flinched away, instinctively. Ack, that wasn’t nice of me… But he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets. “you got it okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said, quickly rubbing away the blood. And tears. “And… and I’m sorry. About the screaming….”

“don’t sweat it, kid.” He shrugged.

“I just…” I’m sometimes kinda pathologically terrified of skeletons. Especially the walking talking right-in-my-face sort. “I…” Wow, how do you tell someone that?

“hey, i gotta get back to work.” Sans nodded back towards the path, and for the first time I looked down it, too. A thin path of less-dark snow, walled in with the endless bare pine trunks, leading just… on. “i’m supposed to be on lookout for humans, remember?”

“Right,” I said, with a steadying, shaky breath. Then I looked over at him, really looked at him. He at least half a foot shorter than me, almost a little… rounded, with his baggy coat and track pants. His smile was the relaxed, easy sort of kind, except that he kind of eyed me like I’d start screaming again. A valid concern, I thought with a flush. “Uh… lookout?” I held out my hands and grinned.

“hah, nice.” He started to trudge back up the path. I scooped up my mask and readjusted it as I trailed after him. “so, human, what are you planning on doing here?”

“Oh, well…” I glanced back over my shoulder. I’d felt stuff there, dimensional hole stuff. “I… I need to…” He was looking at me again, and I couldn’t see the white pinprick of his pupil. “I dunno,” I finally said. “I um… It’s a bit of a long story…” And my words didn’t want to do much more than trip over each other. “Find a place to curl up and ignore my problems for a little bit?” I finally suggested.

Sans let out a surprised snort. “no kiddin? that’s just what i was going to do,” he said. “nice disguise, by the way.”

“I thought you were going to work,” I teased. Definitely knew that feeling, using work to ignore my problems. Or, trying to, until work _became_ my problems, then lack of work was my main problem… Sans shrugged. I felt a little better, trailing behind him, looking up and around me at the towering trees. I couldn’t even see the ceiling… I wasn’t entirely convinced I was underground still. Wondering, I reached out, past Sans to the feel of other living entities beyond… the same bolstered hope, the hope of the next human soul. My hand locked around the edge of my chest plate, right over my heart, as I pushed the feeling away. I was all that stood between them and freedom, but… 

“watch you head,” I looked up to see we’d reached a small bridge with a… sculpture around it? “my bro built this gate too wide to keep anyone out,” Sans explained as we stepped through the high wood archway. “he didn’t want anyone to get locked out of snowdin. he’s pretty cool like that.” Gate, huh. So that’s what it was. The way Sans smiled, eyes closed, soft around the edges… I touched the wood around the bridge. I could hear, faintly, the enthusiastic call and clatter of building, a bright voice matching the low murmur I recognized as Sans… 

“A brother…” I murmured, smiling myself. “He sounds nice.” But was he a skeleton too? How many skeleton guys were there? I shuffled past the bridge before I could get any visual memories from it.

“yeah, he’s a really great guy. if you hang around here a bit, i can introduce you.” Sans and I had reached a small stand, with an old lamp set out in front, and a few lumps of snow off to the side. My skeleton guide took up a seat behind the stand, propped his feet up, and settled in with a tired sort of sound. “you’d like him. though he’s a bit of a human-hunting fanatic.” He peeked an eye open at me, then winked. “don’t you worry about him. he couldn’t be dangerous if he tried, and that disguise of yours should keep him from guessing your little secret.”

“Oh, right.” I shuffled in place in the snow. Well, I already felt pretty comfortable with Sans, even with the skeleton thing. And I trusted him. He felt like the trustworthy sort, all in all.

“hey, actually…” Sans sat up, glanced down the way, then looked at me a moment. “wanna help me with something?” I nodded, and he peeled out of his blue coat. He had a knit turtleneck on underneath, I noted, as he handed me the coat and glanced down the way. “okay, i need to go check on something, but i need someone at my station.”

“So, you want me to cover for you?” I pulled on the coat, which fit decently well, aside from being a little short on the sleeves. It was also warm. Weird. “What do I need to do?” Hopefully nothing too attention-intensive… What if another human got past the woman behind the doors? What was I supposed to do? Hide them, like he was kind of hiding me? In a way? 

“nah, you don’t need to do anything… actually, it’d probably work best if you just laid your head down and took a nap,” Sans said. He looked me over then offered a thumbs up. “perfect. paps probably won’t come looking, but even so, he sees me sleeping here all the time.” Okay, just pretend to sleep… maybe even take a real nap.

“Okay,” I said, and settled into his chair. He nodded a little, then I pulled his hood up over the back of my mask, curled my arms around each other on the counter, and laid my head down. “How do I look?”

“i’d say you look like me when i’m sleeping, but i never seem to get a good look at myself while i’m out,” Sans returned. I lifted my head to stick my tongue at him, but my mask kind of made that certain expression impossible. And Sans was… gone. Nothing but trees and snow to my left, though I couldn’t see that far down, with a couple of squat fir trees blocking most of my view. Nothing but tall pines to the right, where we’d come… I shivered and nestled deeper into Sans’ coat. I wasn’t really tired anymore. Too nervous, bundled in a stranger’s… stranger skeleton’s coat, covering for him at a job I had no idea how to do? How did people get away with just sleeping through work; why did they not get freaked out about being fired or anything?

I rubbed my hand against the wood grain, then looked under the counter. Old bottles of… mustard? Mayonnaise? And a mostly empty jar of pickle relish, all half buried in a bunch of snow. That’d keep them pretty well preserved, I thought, with a bit of a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I have been near-pathologically afraid of skeletons, mummies, and most forms of undead since I was probably 7. I was still terrified of them last year, too, so.... yeah


	3. Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO WE MEET NEXT

So I’d just chill here. I could man a station. Or, skeleton it? I propped my head up with one hand, hood tugged as low over my mask as it would go, and shrugged my bag off my shoulder. Ow, one shoulder bags weren’t that great for long term travel, but I’d forgotten I’d been carrying it. If it weren’t for the too-familiar lump of anxiety in my stomach, it’d be nice here. It was snowy, which I loved, the look, the trees, the smell of cold filling me up. In the cozy warmth of Sans’ coat, settled at this little station out in the middle of wherever, ignoring that I was underground, ignoring whether I could get out or not, if I should go back to the Ruins, if I should explore forward… 

When I felt around, the only draw I felt was faint, kind of off toward the fluffier pine trees, but not really urgent. Latent. It felt latent, not yet activated. I blinked, tugging my attention back into myself, and nestled my chin into my folded arms. As I watched, a few flakes began to drift down from the sky. Snow fell, soft little speck flakes that dappled the far edge of the counter; when I reached out my hand the snow dotted the edges of my gloved fingers. Wow… this was nice.

“SANS!” Oh! I pulled my arm in and laid my head down, slowing my breathing as best I could before he got here. He’d just see my sleeping lump and assume it was his brother, just keep going… wherever he usually went, after checking here. All he needed to see was the lump of blue coat and sleeping form, that was it. “SANS, YOU’D BETTER NOT BE SLACKING OFF AGAIN.” He sounded just like from the memory at the gate, unrestrained in his earnestness; I had to steady my breathing as this footsteps pounded up to the counter. Sans just said he’d be used to seeing him asleep at the station, but would he try and wake me? How would he react to a stranger in his brother’s coat? What would he do? It took a lot of concentration to keep my breathing calm.

“OH SANS, ARE YOU ASLEEP AGAIN?” Papyrus huffed right in front of me, and I tried not to shiver. Steady, slow breathing. Calm the anxiety and pretend to sleep. I was a pretty good at pretending sleep. “EVERY DAY. EVERY DAY YOU’RE ASLEEP AT YOUR STATION! AT LEAST YOU’RE NOT SLACKING OFF AT GRILLBY’S THIS TIME.” Oh man, he probably _was_ slacking off at Grillby’s, wherever that was. I smothered my snickers in my hand; was I assistant-pranking his brother? “YOU ARE LUCKY I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM SUCH A CARING BROTHER. WHATEVER WOULD YOU DO WITHOUT ME?” Snow crunched again, and I tried to let myself relax. Then hands grabbed me under my arms, and lifted me high up in the air. I ducked my head low, trying to hold still. What? What was I supposed to do with this?? “WHEN WE GET HOME,” Papyrus continued as he settled me piggyback-style on his back, “I WILL MAKE YOU SOME OF MY DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI. OOF, SANS WHEN DID YOU GET THIS HEAVY?”

Haha, I curled my hands up in the sleeves of Sans’ coat, and tucked my legs as subtly out of his lines of vision as I could, without opening my eyes. This… was not good. Papyrus set off at a jaunty pace through the snow, chattering on about the puzzles he had set for impending humans, puzzles including electrical shocks, inescapable traps, and a few… kind of dangerous canon/fire/spear conglomerates. 

“OF COURSE, ANY DAY NOW, A HUMAN WILL ARRIVE. I CAN FEEL IT! IN MY BONES!” In my nervousness, I almost laughed aloud. My whole body ached with the effort to lay limp as he carried me. Papyrus must be pretty strong, being able to lift me, armor and all. I peeked a little bit, just to see where we were, around the edge of his shoulder. He was wearing a red scarf that blocked most of my view under the coat hood, and red boots that sank into the snow with each step.

“HEH, YOU REALLY ARE SOUND ASLEEP THIS TIME.” Papyrus head twisted to look, and I squeezed my eyes shut, head low. Just in case. “SANS, I… AS YOUR BROTHER, I HAVE TO SAY THAT… IM CONCERNED FOR YOU.” Oh boy. “I AM…! YOU SLEEP ALL THE TIME! OR YOU LEAVE YOUR JOBS AND GO OFF TO GRILLBY’S… YESTERDAY I FOUND YOU SLEEPING BY A BIG DOOR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS! AND NOW THIS.” His voice had taken a more sedate quality than earlier, and while his footsteps hadn’t slowed, even they sounded a little solemn. “YOU HAVE SEEMED SO DIFFERENT AS OF LATE… AND… AND I AM YOUR BROTHER, AND THE GREATEST OF BROTHERS, SO AS THE GREATEST OF BROTHERS IT IS MY DUTY TO TELL YOU THIS!” He jostled me, straightening up as he proclaimed it, and I suddenly grabbed tight to avoid slipping. “SANS?” Heart pounding, I tried to at least keep my heaving breaths shallow, quiet. Papyrus sighed and hiked me up. “WELL I KNOW YOU ARE ASLEEP, AND… AND YOU MUST NEED YOUR SLEEP.” He continued on, now quiet. I peeked again after a bit, just as we stepped onto a rope bridge, which was a terrible idea. Eyes squeezed shut, I didn’t pay attention until we reached what sounded like the bustle of a town.

“Hey Papyrus!”

“WHY HELLO FRIEND!” Papyrus exclaimed. “HOW ARE YOU—AH YES, OF CORUSE YOU ARE BUSY. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL LET YOU ON YOUR WAY! JUST KNOW THAT YOU ARE SAFE ANOTHER DAY, AS NO HUMANS—YES, HAVE A GOOD EVENING!” He let out a bit of a sigh, and I almost pressed my mask comfortingly into his shoulder. His eagerness, and even mild disappointment, echoed around my mind. I couldn’t help it, around him. The rest of the walk through town, at least the bits where I wasn’t missing everything with blind panic, went about the same, with a few folks commenting on Sans’ sleeping habits. It was… hilarious, the bits it wasn’t terrifying. And somewhat sad. Papyrus sounded almost sad at times, even as he laughed and chatted and went on carrying a total stranger he thought was his brother.

A door creaked open, and I could hear the sound of TV static and something rustling. ““ALL RIGHT SANS, LETS GET YOU TO—WHAT ON EARTH??”

“oh hey papyrus.” Sans. He was already in the house. I almost looked up from my feigned slumber to stare at him. What was he doing? Aside from snickering under his question. Oh my goodness, was I proxy-pranking his brother? “i was wondering when you’d get here. your favorite show’s almost on.”

“SANS WHAT ARE YOU—HOW—” Papyrus shifted, his head switching from my hooded figure to wherever Sans was; what game was the skeleton playing? I couldn’t control my anxious shaking. When would Papyrus figure out… would he realize I was human? Did Sans just proxy-kidnap me? “SANS IF YOU ARE HERE…” I found myself lifted up, held out, dangling like a kid. “THEN WHO DID I JUST CARRY ALL THE WAY HERE FROM YOUR STATION?” I blinked at the sudden change of lighting.

“oh hey you found my coat.” 

“SANS!” I peeked my eyes open. We stood in a small living room, one couch, a table, a TV, and stairs up to a sort of balcony-ish second floor with presumably bedroom doors. Sans sat sprawled on the couch, grinning, and I kind of grinned back. I felt like I ought to be mad at him.

“Um, uh…” The hands holding me spun me around, and I found myself face to face with a rather angry-looking skull. A squeak of terror; of course Sans’ brother was a skeleton too. 

“OH MY GOD, SANS, YOU MADE ME CARRY HER OFF THIS WHOLE WAY!” Papyrus, at least, was glaring more at his brother than me, but I couldn’t keep myself from staring. This skeleton stood a good couple feet taller than me, so my legs dangled even if I didn’t have them tucked half up in defense. Red scarf-cape, round pauldrons, and the rest of his ensemble made him look a little superhero-ish, which helped, but still. “I AM TERRIBLY SORRY THAT MY BROTHER GOT YOU CAUGHT UP IN ALL THIS.”

I kind of shrugged, my heart hammering. I felt helpless. Great. Just, just. Great. _Oh boy._

“hey, hey bro, take it easy on ‘em,” Sans said, and the couch creaked a little.

“I AM APOLOGIZING FOR YOUR ACTIONS, BROTHER, SOMETHING YOU SHOULD BE DOING!” Papyrus set me on my feet and marched forward, presumably to tell Sans off… But my knees buckled and I plopped on the floor, as a very one-sided argument started off to the side. 

“you seem t’be doing a fine job on your own.” I scooted back, wedged up against the side of the couch, as invisible as I could pretend to be, head in my hands, still staring as the tight of the day took over my whole body. 

“SANS!” I was shaking so bad now, this was really bad. I didn’t even feel scared when I thought about it, just completely incapacitated with the tension in my ribs and my shaking limbs. 

“aw, you thought it was funny, and so did she.” Everything shivered and shook and I off-handedly wondered if I could accidentally vibrate myself out of this dimension. 

“SHE DID… UM… SANS, SHE….” No, no focus. Curl your fingers around the ruff of your hood, cover your ears close your eyes focus. Back to the arm of the couch, pinch your palms with how tight you’re holding your fists, anything to reel your mind back in. 

“…..crud…” I was panting, almost hyperventilating, I was actually almost hyperventilating and it was freaking them out, I could feel it. Had to stop. A hand touched my shoulder but I jerked, no, don’t freak them out more, don’t break, _don’t break._

“ARE YOU INJURED? ARE YOU HURT?” I wrangled my lungs into a rhythm of breaths, something like steadiness, something slower. “I AM VERY GOOD AT HEALING MAGIC, YOU NEED ONLY TELL ME AND I WILL FIX YOU RIGHT UP!” The breath count helped, slowed everything in my head just enough that I could shake it, no, not injured. Not fixably injured. Four counts in, hold it for seven, eyes shut, wait, then let it out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Rinse and repeat, just repeat, and I could feel the knot of my stomach slowly unraveling into organs and blood vessels and normal, working human insides. “SO, UH, ONLY JUST TELL ME, AND I WILL HEAL YOU… RIGHT UP!” He sounded so close. The louder skeleton. Slowly I looked up, and I only flinched a little to find a concerned skull a few feet from my face.

“I AM ALSO A VERY GREAT LISTENER, IF YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO!” Oddly enough, the skeleton squatting in front of me looked like he was sweating. “I LISTEN TO SANS’ JOKES ALL THE TIME, EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE VERY BAD.”

“hey uh, pap…” I glanced over. Sans was standing off to the side, looking decidedly less laid back than before. Also like he was sweating. I, I’d really freaked them out, I’d freaked out and freaked these guys out and…

“Sorry.” I put a hand over my masked mouth. “Sorry, I…” My voice wouldn’t come out right around the feeling of tears. One joke, one prank, and I just melted down, in a stranger’s living room nonetheless, oh goodness, why did I do things like this. 

“WHATEVER ARE YOU SORRY FOR?” Papyrus exclaimed, rocking back, arms up almost for emphasis. “SANS IS THE ONE WHO TRICKED YOU INTO SITTING AT HIS STATION AND—”

“No, no, I…” How was I supposed to explain this? I laughed, weak and watery, only to find myself picked up and plopped onto the couch.

“IN RECOMPENSE FOR MY BROTHER’S ACTIONS, I AM OFFICALLY INVITING YOU OVER FOR DINNER,” Papyrus announced, oblivious to my sudden tension. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL BE MAKING A CULINARY MASTERPIECE I HAVE BEEN PERFECTING FOR WEEKS: MY DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI!!!” He laughed, clapping his gloved hands together, and I found myself smiling even as I sank a little into the corner of the couch. “A DELICIOUS MEAL OF SPAGHETTI ALWAYS HELPS AFTER… THINGS. HAPPEN.” 

“Thanks,” I murmured, then coughed. “Thank you, I—”

“NO THANKS IS NECESSARY; IT IS THE LEAST I CAN DO! ALSO THE MOST, FOR MY SPAGHETTI IS REALLY VERY GOOD.” And Papyrus was off into the open kitchen just across from the couch, humming to himself and occasionally glancing my way. He grinned, wider than just normal skeletal grin, and I smiled back. Which he couldn’t see with my mask, so I gave him a thumbs up. “AAHH!! DOES MY REPUTATION PRECEED ME??”

“Yeah, um… Sans told me?” Speaking of Sans, he still hovered just out of visual range of the kitchen, watching me… I couldn’t read his expression. It looked too thoughtful for my comfort. Too concerned for my guilt.

“WELL HE IS, AT THE MOMENT… ER, MY BIGGEST FAN, BUT WHEN YOU LIVE WITH SOMEONE AS GREAT AS I AM, HOW CAN YOU NOT BE?” In the kitchen Papyrus pulled out vegetables and a few boxes of pasta, setting them out on the counter. The TV still played, I realized, but it wasn’t making any sound. Had they muted it? To my left, Sans shuffled to the couch and sank into the opposite corner, as far from me as he could. I looked down at my knees, tucked up against my chest plate, and sighed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled into the edge of his coat. “Oh, uh…” It took me a few tries, but I managed to wriggle my arms out of the sleeves and squirm out of his coat, without my armor catching too badly on anything. “Here.” I held it out. “That was… that was a good one. You got both of us.”

“heh.” He took the jacket and slid into it, as easily as if he’d never taken the thing off. I settled a little bit more into the couch, as Papyrus started humming and cutting up tomatoes. Huh, so he made his own sauce? “looks like you left your bag back there.”

“Wha?” I suddenly glanced around; I had left my bag. I’d taken it off at his station and… then Papyrus came… My fingers knotted around my shirt. “I gotta go get it,” I said. “I um…” I didn’t know how to get back. “Could… could you…”

“eh, i know a shortcut.” Sans shrugged and pushed himself off the couch, then turned toward the kitchen. “hey papyrus we’ll be right back; she forgot her stuff out at my station.”

“WELL BE QUICK. MY MASTERPIECE DINNER WILL BE DONE SOON!” Papyrus leaned out of the kitchen, eyeing us, and the two skeletons shared a sort of look. Did his brother know I was… human? If so, he wasn’t as much of a human-catching fanatic as Sans had said, but aside from that Papyrus waved us along, and I waved a little back. We stepped out onto a snowy front porch, in a dimly-lit little town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus. The answer is Papyrus.
> 
> Aaaahhh, I still feel bad, but I can't see how I wouldn't freak out at the sight of skeletons. Particularly a tall, expressive, loud one right in my face, just...  
> But that doesn't stop me from feeling bad for being at first scared of him and Sans. I can't even say intimidated; I was just straight up scared. So I tried to keep that here, even though in person I'd get so much more of their personalities than just from fanart
> 
> Also the idea of Sans double-pranking both this stranger he found in the woods and his brother is still hilarious to me. Just, I still laugh. I hope you guys found it funny too : 3


End file.
